Dangerous squeals

Stella has a really high-pitch little voice. You can tell because she has recently begun to utilize the ultrasound feature quite often. She now squeals when she is happy or having fun, and instead chooses to go for high-pitch screams when she is mad. And while I am becoming immune to this not-so-charming habit (possibly because by now I've gone half deaf), other people still find it... well, annoying is kind of a euphemism.

An example: yesterday we were at Starbucks. We go to this Starbucks quite often, because it's in the Stamford Town Center, inside Barnes & Noble, and just a short escalator away from H&M. I basically go there every time I am in Stamford, which is a lot. That Starbucks is practically a second home - ok, a third, Whole Foods would definitely come first (I know, weird combination). Anyway, where was I?

Ah, yes. We were there, all together. Stella of course started running around, which is quite normal for a toddler, and generally accepted I think. But two Russian students sitting at one of the tables would beg to differ. They were trying to study or working on a project or something, and they were annoyed that Stella was running past them. The Starbucks was far from quiet, so I didn't give it much thought. However when Sarah, who had been playing with her sister, decided to come sit down, Stella wouldn't take it. I was sitting peacefully drinking my latte and my husband was eating cheesecake and reading a magazine, when all of a sudden we heard a scream of a pitch so high that I am surprised the windows didn't shatter. Every.Single.Person. jumped on their seats. My husband and I went "shhhh!" but we had already been spotted as the parents of the screaming child.

It was over quickly, though, as I got up to play with her (which mostly consisted of me watching her while she ran back and forth between two isles of games) and she didn't scream anymore. But she squealed. Oh, the squeals. Those are pretty loud and high-pitch too. Occasionally Stella and I would go sit back down, but after just a couple of minutes she'd run away again, squealing and giggling because she knew I'd follow her. And every time I got up I could practically feel the daggers the two students were mentally throwing at me, their stares burning into back. I tell you, I felt like they were picking which scarlet letter to brand me with.

Then I'd walk by and they'd stare at me, most likely willing me to go away and stay away. It was making me uncomfortable. So when at one point I started choking on my latte I was sure they had given me the evil eye, so I told my husband I wanted to leave. He said "Oh, it's time for Sarah's hairdresser appointment" so I didn't encounter much resistance. Just as well - I am pretty sure by then every single person in Starbucks wanted to shoot us. I said as much, and my husband laughed.

Yeah, you laugh. I'm the one who got the evil eye. Now if I grow a beard or a third arm I'll have only my daughter's squeals to blame.